With This Forever
by starlight2005
Summary: Relationships change over time, some for the better and some for the worst. If you have eternity to live, how do you assess to whom your heart should really belong?  H/L, Elr/L
1. I and II

**Title: With This Forever **

**Pairings: Haldir/Legolas, Elrohir/Legolas **

**Summary: Relationships change over time, some for the better and some for the worst. If you have eternity to live, how do you assess to whom your heart should really belong? **

**Disclaimer: As much as I want to think – not that I do – that Middle Earth and all its fascinating characters belong to me, they don't. Most thanks go to Tolkien, who thought of all these wonderful things. **

**Author's Notes: **

**I've been lurking in this fandom for so many years that I can easily consider it the first thing that I've ever loved. I know how painful it is to read stories that do no justice to the characters, and I hope that this collection of drabbles will not follow that fate. It's much too painful to even imagine. As such, I'd ask for some... patience. I deliberately changed some events to accommodate the story, so bear with me.**

**To those who have read my other fics, I promise I'll work on them once I'm through with the break I seem to have found myself in. My apologies! **

**Although this was initially meant to centre on A/L, which seems to be the most dominant slash pairing with Legolas in it, I find that H/L and Elr/L appeal to me more.**

**Also, I shall be posting two drabbles per week so unless I've been caught up by school work or something, updates will be regular. **

**Finally, do give feedback. I would love to hear how to improve on my story, and to hear what particular points worked. Thanks!

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**1: Missing **

The battle had left them injured and weary; but they stood with grim determination. Coupled with the blotches of orc blood on their faces and armour, they made a formidable sight, the sons of Elrond. Their quest for revenge was legendary and many who have met them prior to Celebrian's tragedy had difficulty reconciling the serious, deadly brethrenof today to the mischievous, sweet-natured Elves that they once were. Elladan was the eldest, and he gazed at the open field with a preciseness that only came with years-long experience in warfare. Immediately he counted the casualties that they had caused – fifteen – but five had managed to escape. Although he knew that these five would soon wreck havoc on some unfortunate soul's life, he was slightly relieved at the sight of the wandering Elves that they had saved from the band of orcs that chanced upon them.

He looked for his brother, who for a long while remained unseen. During battle, he was certain that except for some small cuts, his brother was generally unhurt. Which meant that his twin was either tending to the wounded (if there were) among the wanderers, or he was gathering carcasses to burn after.

Elrohir Peredhel was doing neither. The younger son of Elrond knelt on the ground, cradling a beautifully-crafted dagger that was left carelessly beside the body of a slain orc. He was familiar with this dagger for it was he who gave it to the owner. But when he could find no trace of the owner, he grew worried. His worry increased tenfold when he spotted a pool of bright red blood nearby and found it to be Elven in origin. There was only one Elf in the vicinity during their ambush, and this Elf was apparently missing.

Elladan was walking towards him and he stood up, a frown on his dirty, handsome face. Noticing the troubled look on his brother's face, Elladan wasted no time in approaching him and gasped at the weapon on Elrohir's hand.

"He's missing," Elrohir tonelessly said. His mind raced, rushing back to the last time he saw their friend.

"He would never have dropped this so thoughtlessly," Elladan agreed. "We must tell Adar about this."

"No!" At Elrohir's outburst, Elladan quieted. But Elrohir was agitated as it was and continued, "We need to look for him. Any minute used to do anything else will be a waste of time used to assure his safety."

"And the company of Elves we have rescued? What do we do with them?"

"The border is nary a day's ride from here. We have scared the orcs enough to keep them away from the road. They will be safe, even without us, brother."

"Elrohir—"

"Please! I must find him."

"I know." At Elladan's obvious defeat, Elrohir could not find in himself to stare at his brother. Instead he glanced away from him, berating himself for his strongly emotional outburst. It was at this point that he noticed the blood trail a few feet away and it was then that he recognized the manner by which it was caused. Whoever had abducted their friend did so by force, and for sure at their friend's expense.

"We will find him," his brother promised. Elrohir nodded, fingering the dagger tightly.

"I intend to."

* * *

**2: Anger **

The binding was tight and it could not be undone. For a brief moment, Legolas pondered about the implication of his predicament. He was bound and he was in a place he could not identify, except that he was in a tent in the middle of somewhere. His captors had obviously trusted their handiwork for they stayed outside by the warmth of the campfire. But Legolas was not to be intimidated. He was not completely unarmed since they have yet to find the blade he kept in his boot. However, with no idea about his whereabouts, he also did not know where to go to next when he escaped.

Not for the first time, he cursed these ill tidings. They had caught him unaware in the battlefield and snuck up on him while he was gathering arrows. He fought them and had already pushed two away until he felt a rock hit his head. He lost consciousness and found himself here. How they could overwhelm an elf, he could not explain. In fact, he could not even answer why they wanted to seize him in the first place!

"You're awake. Good. I have some questions for you."

The elf squinted in the darkness, trying to look for the owner of the voice. He could make out the silhouette of a man and from the man's accent, he determined that indeed this band of men were unfriendly. At his silence, however, the man smirked and approached him. He was quick enough to freeze.

"You choose silence. How likely of you. But do not test my patience, Elf. I have methods to extract the information I need, and you will not like it."

With a quick blow, the man sent his captive to the ground and felt a sense of satisfaction at the power that he had in his hands. There was strength to be found in the darkness, and he revelled in the anonymity and security it provided. His hatred for his captive's race burned with an intensity, and he was fast in imagining the many ways this elf would suffer. Feeling he was done, the man huffed and walked out. He had time, and he would do more on the morrow.

Legolas' head reeled and his cheek burned with the intensity of the impact. He glared at the man's back angrily. The man would bear the pain of intentionally hitting an elf!

Quick was Legolas, son of Thranduil, to anger. Some say he inherited it from his sire, but he was quick to let go, as well. It made him a dangerous warrior in the field and a respectable figure in the court for he held no grudges. But he was not perfect, and simply the memory of how this man took the liberty to abduct him kept making him furious. He would make this band of men pay, he vowed as he struggled in his binds once more.

This was how he noticed that his belt did not contain his dagger, and finally remembered that he had dropped it earlier when he was fighting these people off. Legolas sighed, anger temporarily forgotten, and wondered if the Peredhil were alright. The twins would have noticed his absence by now for he had accompanied them in their ambush, despite Elrohir's initial protests.

Memory of Elrohir's outburst in the Last Homely House made Legolas smile in spite of his captivity. Surely with Elrohir many leagues away, memories were the only ones that kept the dark at bay, and Legolas found that he missed the other elf with all his heart.

"Ai, my dear Elf-knight, if you only know..."


	2. III and IV

A/N: So apparently, I forgot we had class today. Yay. Although it means I have to catch up when I go to class tomorrow, I get to post an update today. Happy day. ::snickers::

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**3: Yester-eve **

When one had eternity to be alive, Time moved ever so slowly. Childhood spanned from one year to decades and centuries. Majority and adulthood were longer. Even at three thousand years, one would be considered young for it took more than three millennia to be august and aptly experienced. But there were certain situations where despite being immortal, time flew swiftly. The sons of Elrond were masters of tracking, partly from having been trained by Glorfindel, Lord of the Golden Flower who was reborn, and partly by hunting with the Dunedain, Men from the North. They had tracked the trail of blood into the forest nearby many hours ago, and it was dark when they reluctantly decided to set up camp.

The trees spoke to them of men who travelled in haste, cutting and slashing vines and shrubs that blocked their path. They cried with pain at remembering how so much wood was burned, but not a seedling planted to replace it. For many years the forest was left on its own, and with the intrusion of this band of men, it left behind so much destruction than the forest had ever witnessed. In spite of this, the information was not enough. Not nearly enough to assist them in their pursuit, Elladan deemed as he struggled with what they have gathered.

A band of men. Was there an elf with them?

Perhaps. It was a lead that they ought to follow. But Elladan's conclusion could not stop the needless pacing Elrohir has started, and he did not need a bond, so common among twins, to know the direction his brother's thoughts were spiralling at.

"I told him not to come!"

"He is stubborn," Elladan conceded. He remembered it fondly, the eve of their departure. Legolas had blocked the doorway, his features marred with stern determination. It was always the butt of their jests and fascination in the past. At that time, it made Elladan look at him.

_"You shall not go without me," Legolas declared. Elrohir would not listen, though. He was too busy packing, and trying his best to ignore their golden-haired friend. _

_"This is dangerous. You might get hurt." Legolas glared at Elladan, who raised two hands placating. "You can come with us on our next mission, I promise. But not this one." _

_ "You insist on treating me like a child, which I assure you I am not. And you intend to ambush them with just the both of you. Are you insane? You need to bring someone else!" _

_ "Nay, Legolas. We will not ask this of you. We have been doing this for years now, we know the risks," Elrohir interjected calmly. The implication was clear and for a moment, Legolas was silent. But he was stubborn, and he was not to be swayed. He shut the door and blocked it from the twins. _

_"Like I said, you shall not go without me. Don't you understand? I have as much right to be concerned and prohibit you from pursuing this mad task alone. So, it's either you let me come with you, or you're not going. At all," Legolas decided. He eyed them and dared them wordlessly, until Elrohir shook his head and stopped packing. His grey eyes were downcast and he looked all the more lost in thought. It was as if he was consulting within himself. At last, he glanced at his twin, asking for his support, and sighed. _

_"I do not wholeheartedly agree with this idea of yours, but you must promise me that you will never leave my side," the Elf-knight warned. Legolas was too overjoyed that he was willing to do just about everything. So he hastily agreed, and pulled both elves to a tight embrace. _

_ "Thank you," he whispered and ran towards his quarters. _

_"You spoil him," Elladan commented, observing his brother. Elrohir sighed and met his gaze. _

_ "How do you resist him?"_

_ "I do not. I simply do not decide quickly, like you did."_

_ Elrohir nodded. His brother was right. _

"If he is harmed, I cannot forgive myself," Elrohir breathed, his worry-stricken face paling at the idea. He met his twin's gaze and sighed. "I should never have let him come."

"And risk being locked in our chambers for the duration of the ambush? Nay, Elrohir, do not take this personally. You did not know. Trust that he will be safe," Elladan assured him, yet in his heart he dared not quell the fear that somewhere Legolas was lying wounded and vulnerable to his captors. His twin flopped himself on the log beside him and proceeded to poke the fire they had started instead. If he were asked, he would rather that Elrohir was pacing like mad than brooding as he was doing right now.

"He will be safe," Elladan promised.

Nodding, Elrohir kept quiet. Any other option, he thought, was not acceptable.

* * *

**4: Doubt **

Legolas Greenleaf was born two millennia after his grandsire Oropher's death. He was the second son of Thranduil, King of Greenwood the Great, and he was his mother's pride for among all three sons, it was he who resembled her most in physical attributes and temperament. But he was still his sire's son, and from him Legolas inherited his quick temper and stubborn streak.

He had already reached half of millennia when he met the sons of Elrond, who were born more than one millennia earlier. With them, a bond was quickly formed. Elladan was the older brother, who watched and made sure they were safe. But it was to Elrohir that Legolas shared most of his thoughts and secrets with. They were kin in heart, so to speak, for they fought for the same ideals and were similar in many noticeable ways. Despite the age gap, the three were good friends; and despite the distance between the two kingdoms, they remained loyal in sending correspondences.

Such closeness between him and the younger son of Elrond eventually led to his admiration towards Elrohir. It was clear as day. He appreciated the Peredhel's comely looks and his poet heart. Although in with his hands, Elrohir could easily eliminate his enemies well enough, it was with the same hands that he wrote the most beautiful poems that Legolas cherished secretly. Once the twins reached their majority, however, Legolas found that the Elf-knight was well beyond his reach for just as people thought it to be, the sons of Elrond were just as masters-to-be in the art of lovemaking as they were in lore. Many were those invited to their beds, and Legolas knew that never would he receive the same affection from his friend. Not only did the brethren rule never to bed any of their closest friends, Elrohir took himself a lover to whom he was faithful to, an elf from the Golden Woods.

It seemed that Legolas was destined to have the twin slip from him, and for a while he considered himself merely to have a fleeting fancy towards Elrohir. A form of hero-worshipping, even. But thoughts of Elrohir were constant in his mind for years, to the point that he took no lover even as he reached his majority when so many offered.

He took to training as one of his father's soldiers. Not only was it expected of him and a part of his education, it distracted him from unbidden thoughts. Hardly had the twins visited in the duration of his training, and only once did they meet afterwards. By chance, the twins were sent by their father to deliver a message to Greenwood. Legolas was on patrol then, and it was he who greeted them at the borders. It was not difficult to note the changes in his friends. No longer did he look at them with such familiarity, for it was clear that he was already looking at elves that have experienced much heartache in a brief span of years. Thranduil, during dinner, spoke of the Lady Celebrian's fate, and Legolas' heart cried for his friends. Yet his efforts of comfort were unwanted; for even though he was not rejected, they had not welcomed him either and it was this that distressed him the most.

It was with a heavy heart that Legolas set out for patrol after. If solitude was what they preferred, then he was going to respect that. Unfortunately, they left for the Last Homely House while he was away, and it was a palace that was devoid of their much-looked forward to presence that he came back to.

Legolas never forgot the disappointment and the hurt. And even in captivity, he wondered if the reasons for their vehement refusal to let him join their planned ambush were purely security in nature, and not of personal ones.

In the end, though, it did not matter. He promised to be there for them, and he was going to fulfil it.


	3. V and VI

A/N: Hello! I don't know exactly who's reading this, but thanks. Parts 5 and 6 this week.

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**5: Pursuit **

Their pace was double than that of the men they were pursuing, and with good reason for it was of dire importance that they outran the outlaws and retrieve their friend. But with every hour that passed toiling under the heat of the sun, or stalking through the cold night, was an hour less spent on finding Legolas. Elladan grew more worried not only for their golden Prince, but also for his brother. Elrohir had not spoken except for casual observations and tracking results. He kept to himself and refused to rest. It was painful to watch, like having to witness a barrier being constructed between them and not having the ability to prevent it. Elladan understood the reasons, however. He understood the guilt and the helplessness that Elrohir felt for he has felt its onslaught too. Yet as much as he wanted to momentarily pause from their dogged pursuit in order to resolve such unwanted emotions, he knew as well that he could not. Legolas' safety was at stake.

Elladan's knowledge of the situation was limited, sadly, for he could not comprehend the reasons for the Prince's abduction. Nor could he pinpoint the exact location Legolas' captors were headed. But he was aware of Legolas' wound and general weakness caused by this. It only emphasized the need to find him quickly.

In the meantime, Elladan and Elrohir Peredhel camped on the outskirt of the forest that they entered earlier. The younger son of Elrond had already volunteered to do the scouting and had left two hours ago. Elrohir was yet to return. Which left Elladan to his thoughts and he grimaced at it. Since their naneth's ordeal, he knew the pain that his adar and brother felt more intensely than they did. It was Elrohir who chanced upon the broken body of the Lady Celebrian and it was he who was forced to carry her back to their father despite her pleas of death and protests. Elladan was in a sense fortunate to have been saved from this traumatizing ordeal, but it was not something that he wished any member of his family would feel or personally experience. It was most painful to witness one's mother waste away by day and scream with unadulterated terror every night.

It was most painful to witness one's mother waste away by day and scream with pure terror every night. Elladan could not remember the last time he travelled without the intention of an ambush or a massacre of unsuspecting orcs. There was a bloodlust in them now, and he wanted nothing else but to hear the anguished cries of Sauron's dying creatures. But perhaps the most regrettable consequence of their quest lay on Elrohir's waning interest in lore and poetry. It was a shame for Elrohir had loved it and taken more than necessary measures to make him and Legolas appreciate it. Needless to say, nowadays the Elf-knight no longer spent time in their father's library, and graces no one with poems anymore. It was the most blatant change, and Elladan sighed sadly at the knowledge that he did nothing to stop this from happening.

The sound of heavy footsteps alerted Elladan immediately and he reached for his sword, gripping it tightly and waiting for an attack. Nothing came for although a man was ready to charge at him, Elrohir had already readily struck him down with a dagger before he could do anything.

"They're a couple of hours away," Elrohir announced, a serious, undecipherable expression present on his face as he said so. He had already slit the man's throat, and even Elladan had to wince at the coldness by which Elrohir took the man's life with. "If we move now, we can catch them by dawn."

"And Legolas? Is he with them?" Elladan questioned, packing their stuff without further thought. It was not up for discussion—when they would have to leave—for Legolas needed them and time was of the essence. At Elrohir's quick nod, Elladan's mind was made up. They were in the open plains leading to Caradhas and beyond that lay their grandparents' realm. The men would not dare pass the borders of Lothlorien in fear of the Lady Galadriel, but they would cross the mountain before the pass closed up... and that was not for long.

"Let us go then," he remarked.

They would not stop for food, or water. Even with edain blood flowing in their vein, they were still elves and trained to forgo these basic necessities in scenarios where utmost haste was needed. As the distance between them and Legolas lessened with every step, Elrohir found his thoughts darkening and narrowing further into revenge and unspent fury. Not one hair on Legolas' head should be harmed, he vowed, or else.

* * *

**6: Contention**

In Elven dreams, Legolas saw his naneth's smiling face. She was ethereal to look at, and her smile reminded him of eternal daylight. She was ever so optimistic, the elders of his father's court often say. She was the King's staunchest ally; his source of strength and it was obvious to all the subjects that Thranduil loved her very much. But fate was not merciful and took her away from them when Legolas was merely a hundred years old. His Adar could not be talked to for days. It was difficult to bear with a loved one's death, and even at a tender age, Legolas felt the loss acutely. He could not eat for days, demanding for his nana, whose body lay peacefully in the bosom of the earth. What was death, but a pit of dread and emptiness? Yet in his dreams, his mother was alive as ever – as if she had not truly left. Legolas no longer minded the silence that was so uncharacteristic of the Queen, too grateful was he to question this gracious offer of reprieve and comfort.

However, when his captors doused his slumbering body with cold water, Legolas jolted awake. Eyes searched frantically at the source, while instinctively he stopped the venomous words that he intended to hurl. There was no use in angering those who could easily take his life, regardless of reason or purpose. From behind him, the man who was holding the emptied pale laughed and seemed to be amused by the drenched state the Elf was in. 'The Elf' glared at him, but other than that kept quiet. Awaking abruptly from sleep did nothing to remove the fog that remained wrapped around his mind, and he still felt so lethargic that at this point, he cared not what the men would do. When they pulled him to his feet and pushed him out, though, Legolas inwardly celebrated. He could find out where he was at last! He needed a few more minutes to strategize before he could make his escape.

Dawn was fast approaching, yet the sky was dark. Under the canopy of the stars, Legolas could not help but be in awe of the glimmering Silmaril-like celestial objects that he now viewed above. One shone more than the rest, and he was certain it was the Peredhil's grandsire, Earendil, who braved the rough seas to plead the case of the Men and Elves who were on constant onslaught from Sauron in the Second Age. Earendil twinkled, as if responding to his thoughts and for a brief moment, Legolas was gladdened for he felt as if he were truly not alone. But this relief was short-lived for one of the men have pushed him to his knees and before him was the man who had hit him earlier.

The man could not be more than 40 or 50 years of age, for not many Men were gifted with long life such as those from Numenor. The elf was certain his captor was not one of them. But his harsh demeanour already belied the cruelties he has encountered, or exacted, and Legolas briefly thought about the implication of this. Was he driven by his grudges, or greed? Or was this a simple issue of miscommunication, which Elves would be hastily blamed for? In any case, Legolas was not surprised. Few men continue to trust the first children of Iluvatar, especially when there was no reason to seek each other anymore.

"I seek Rivendell," the man said, watching his captive's face for any trace of familiarity. He could see none, and he seethed. The elf was ignoring him, and was apparently refusing to cooperate. Seizing a handful of golden hair, he pulled the elf closer, "You will show me the way."

"Nay, I refuse," Legolas protested, wincing at the pain. The knowledge of their goal had him sighing in relief for at least they were not in any direction that could lead to the Last Homely House.

For the first time since he saw the man's face, he found traces of a smile.

But Legolas could not find pleasure in it when he knew it would be caused by whatever suffering they would inflict on him. Instead, he stole one last look at Earendil and fervently hoped his plan would work.


End file.
